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the dynamiter-第37章

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divulged; the Government had craftily filled the place with 
minions; even the pensioner was not improbably a hireling in 
disguise; and our emissary; without other aid or protection 
than the simple apparatus in his bag; found himself 
confronted by force; brutal force; that strong hand which was 
a character of the ages of oppression。  Should he venture to 
deposit the machine; it was almost certain that he would be 
observed and arrested; a cry would arise; and there was just 
a fear that the police might not be present in sufficient 
force; to protect him from the savagery of the mob。  The 
scheme must be delayed。  He stood with his bag on his arm; 
pretending to survey the front of the Alhambra; when there 
flashed into his mind a thought to appal the bravest。  The 
machine was set; at the appointed hour; it must explode; and 
how; in the interval; was he to be rid of it?

Put yourself; I beseech you; into the body of that patriot。  
There he was; friendless and helpless; a man in the very 
flower of life; for he is not yet forty; with long years of 
happiness before him; and now condemned; in one moment; to a 
cruel and revolting death by dynamite!  The square; he said; 
went round him like a thaumatrope; he saw the Alhambra leap 
into the air like a balloon; and reeled against the railing。  
It is probable he fainted。

When he came to himself; a constable had him by the arm。

'My God!' he cried。

'You seem to be unwell; sir;' said the hireling。

'I feel better now;' cried poor M'Guire:  and with uneven 
steps; for the pavement of the square seemed to lurch and 
reel under his footing; he fled from the scene of this 
disaster。  Fled?  Alas; from what was he fleeing?  Did he not 
carry that from which he fled along with him? and had he the 
wings of the eagle; had he the swiftness of the ocean winds; 
could he have been rapt into the uttermost quarters of the 
earth; how should he escape the ruin that he carried?  We 
have heard of living men who have been fettered to the dead; 
the grievance; soberly considered; is no more than 
sentimental; the case is but a flea…bite to that of him who 
should be linked; like poor M'Guire; to an explosive bomb。

A thought struck him in Green Street; like a dart through his 
liver:  suppose it were the hour already。  He stopped as 
though he had been shot; and plucked his watch out。  There 
was a howling in his ears; as loud as a winter tempest; his 
sight was now obscured as if by a cloud; now; as by a 
lightning flash; would show him the very dust upon the 
street。  But so brief were these intervals of vision; and so 
violently did the watch vibrate in his hands; that it was 
impossible to distinguish the numbers on the dial。  He 
covered his eyes for a few seconds; and in that space; it 
seemed to him that he had fallen to be a man of ninety。  When 
he looked again; the watch…plate had grown legible:  he had 
twenty minutes。  Twenty minutes; and no plan!

Green Street; at that time; was very empty; and he now 
observed a little girl of about six drawing near to him; and 
as she came; kicking in front of her; as children will; a 
piece of wood。  She sang; too; and something in her accent 
recalling him to the past; produced a sudden clearness in his 
mind。  Here was a God…sent opportunity!

'My dear;' said he; 'would you like a present of a pretty 
bag?'

The child cried aloud with joy and put out her hands to take 
it。  She had looked first at the bag; like a true child; but 
most unfortunately; before she had yet received the fatal 
gift; her eyes fell directly on M'Guire; and no sooner had 
she seen the poor gentleman's face; than she screamed out and 
leaped backward; as though she had seen the devil。  Almost at 
the same moment a woman appeared upon the threshold of a 
neighbouring shop; and called upon the child in anger。  'Come 
here; colleen;' she said; 'and don't be plaguing the poor old 
gentleman!'  With that she re…entered the house; and the 
child followed her; sobbing aloud。

With the loss of this hope M'Guire's reason swooned within 
him。  When next he awoke to consciousness; he was standing 
before St。 Martin's…in…the…Fields; wavering like a drunken 
man; the passers…by regarding him with eyes in which he read; 
as in a glass; an image of the terror and horror that dwelt 
within his own。

'I am afraid you are very ill; sir;' observed a woman; 
stopping and gazing hard in his face。  'Can I do anything to 
help you?'

'Ill?' said M'Guire。  'O God!'  And then; recovering some 
shadow of his self…command; 'Chronic; madam;' said he:  'a 
long course of the dumb ague。  But since you are so 
compassionate … an errand that I lack the strength to carry 
out;' he gasped … 'this bag to Portman Square。  Oh; 
compassionate woman; as you hope to be saved; as you are a 
mother; in the name of your babes that wait to welcome you at 
home; oh; take this bag to Portman Square!  I have a mother; 
too;' he added; with a broken voice。  'Number 19; Portman 
Square。'

I suppose he had expressed himself with too much energy of 
voice; for the woman was plainly taken with a certain fear of 
him。  'Poor gentleman!' said she。  'If I were you; I would go 
home。'  And she left him standing there in his distress。

'Home!' thought M'Guire; 'what a derision!'  What home was 
there for him; the victim of philanthropy?  He thought of his 
old mother; of his happy youth; of the hideous; rending pang 
of the explosion; of the possibility that he might not be 
killed; that he might be cruelly mangled; crippled for life; 
condemned to lifelong pains; blinded perhaps; and almost 
surely deafened。  Ah; you spoke lightly of the dynamiter's 
peril; but even waiving death; have you realised what it is 
for a fine; brave young man of forty; to be smitten suddenly 
with deafness; cut off from all the music of life; and from 
the voice of friendship; and love?  How little do we realise 
the sufferings of others!  Even your brutal Government; in 
the heyday of its lust for cruelty; though it scruples not to 
hound the patriot with spies; to pack the corrupt jury; to 
bribe the hangman; and to erect the infamous gallows; would 
hesitate to inflict so horrible a doom:  not; I am well 
aware; from virtue; not from philanthropy; but with the fear 
before it of the withering scorn of the good。

But I wander from M'Guire。  From this dread glance into the 
past and future; his thoughts returned at a bound upon the 
present。  How had he wandered there? and how long … oh; 
heavens! how long had he been about it?  He pulled out his 
watch; and found that but three minutes had elapsed。  It 
seemed too bright a thing to be believed。  He glanced at the 
church clock; and sure enough; it marked an hour four minutes 
faster than the watch。

Of all that he endured; M'Guire declares that pang was the 
most desolate。  Till then; he had had one friend; one 
counsellor; in whom he plenarily trusted; by whose 
advertisement; he numbered the minutes that remained to him 
of life; on whose sure testimony; he could tell when the time 
was come to risk the last adventure; to cast the bag away 
from him; a
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